


What Path the Water Takes

by BattyRae



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Psychic Abilities, Revenge, Seers, Theros (Magic: The Gathering)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattyRae/pseuds/BattyRae
Summary: A seer's revenge is coming to fruition. As is her death. In the last moments of peace before her end she reflects on her past, her family... and her possible futures.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	What Path the Water Takes

Phyrria was meant to look to the future, that is what they had told her since the first day she had arrived at the temple. They told her Ephara called for her vision. That she was to grant Meletis wisdom, protection. Such was the will of the gods.

She had looked to the future since she was a young girl. Even before she had come to the temple Phyrria had gazed beyond what people around her could perceive. But today, she gazed inwards. Today she looked to the past.

They were there still, the memories of her family. The years had faded them, but could not take them completely. She still saw the farmhouse. Still remembered using her gift to win games and aid with crop planting.

She could have been so happy. She was happy, even if she was strange. But then...

The priests had been firm when they arrived. Phyrria was coming with them. She was to serve Ephara with her visions. She was to gift wisdom to Meletis. To use her vision to prepare it for threats. Her family had hesitated. She was sure they had. But who could deny the will of the gods?

She'd cried when they took her away. Fought to go back to her mother and father and three big sisters. But it was no use in the end. They'd tried to be comforting, but how could she take comfort? She'd cried for a whole week for her mother to come. Cried like she did after she had a nightmare but she never woke up. Eventually the tears dried up. There was no use for them.

It wasn't all bad really if she was honest with herself. If things had been different, perhaps she could have even been happy here. But she was meant to look to the future. The now, the world, distracted from that said her teachers. Connections muddied her clear gaze. She hadn't seen her family since she was a child, and the temple had only offered the barest comfort for her loneliness. The slightest balm for her pain. As much as Phyrria loved to be among those that truly understood her and her gifts, it wasn't enough. The temple was no home. No sanctuary.

It was only a matter of time now, before the visions she had seen in the reflecting pools came to pass. The archons were at the gates, and the temple was totally unprepared for their attack. They would fight of course, while their oracles read the course of the battle to ensure victory. Phyrria had read this day over and over again, since she first saw it in the water. She had lived this day. Breathed this day. She knew every move that was to happen.

In a little less than half an hour, every priest that had taken her would be dead. And so would Phyrria. She hated that this was the only way to get revenge, but any action she took to preserve her own life would lead to their survival. Their fates were tied somehow. Tangled. Perhaps that was how they kept oracles like her. Ones who wanted more than anything since they were little to go home. Tangling their fates up so they couldn't get free. The lock to the reflecting pools clicked into place behind her, and Phyrria knelt down to watch the the battle that was to come. It wasn't too late. Not until the door was broken down. If she unlocked it, shared what she knew or let another gaze into the waters, then she would still survive. She would live many years, becoming Ephara's most treasured seer. She would become Meletis's most precious gift. Famed for the wisdom she delivered. She would train many more oracles, with more gentleness and warmth than any of her own trainers had shown her. That is what the temple had seen. That is why they took her.

The water in the pool splashed into Phyrria's face as she slapped the vision away, hiding the tears that stained it. She didn't want to watch her death coming closer. Instead, she drew breath and let the ripples form another scene.

Her family would be devastated to hear of her death. They kept her in their hearts still, traveled far on holidays just to see her face from a crowd. She gained no warmth from their reflections, but at times...it was almost real.

It wouldn't matter that much in the long run. Phyrria had been lost to them years ago. Her sisters barely even remembered her. Her younger brother never knew her. They would recover. Not easily, but they would recover.

She watched her mother crumble at the news of her daughters death. Saw her father fall into a deep mourning. Her sisters struggled to make ends meet on the farm, two hands down. Too much pressure for two so young. But her parents recovered in the end. Though her mother's temper grew short and her fathers eyes grew dull. She saw her oldest sister grew into a hard woman, running the farm with an iron fist. Her middle sister left to become a warrior, dying too young in a pointless mistake in battle. Her twin married, and she neither loved nor hated her husband, though he looked upon her as though she was holy. They did their work well together and rarely argued. Her brother left for the wilds soon after their parents death, tired of the strict rules of the farm. He died there too, centaur arrows in his back after a few years as a hermit. They were lives. Lived like so many were. Just lives.

There was pounding on the door, the temple priests demanding to know what she had seen. What could save them. Phyrria blocked out their voices. Her family's lives played out before her, and there wasn't enough. Greedy for their faces, she let the waters change again, showing a different fate.

Should she live, Phyrria's fame would bring her parents a pride as great as their sadness for her. Their hearts full and overflowing. They grew old and fat together, no pain or emptiness in their eyes. They had the respect of their peers, and eventually managed to move to the city their daughter would guide. Safer within the walls. Her siblings took over the farm, and her twin sister smiled at her husband as much as he smiled at her. Her middle sister formed a militia in the village, protecting them all from monsters and bandits. Her company earned her great respect, enough that rules could be bent and she could see Phyrria from time to time. Her oldest sister still ran the farm most days, and chose a clever crop to grow. Her brothers skill with the natural arts grew the finest grapes, and the family became known once more, this time for the best wine in the land. They were prosperous, comfortable...  
And happy.

They were happy.

Phyrria looked to the door, and the urgent voices behind it hit her full force. She'd ignored the others in the temple. Ignored that she was dooming many for the crimes of a few.

How could she have ignored that? How could she have been so _cruel_?

It was still a choice. It always was, but revenge seemed so...empty now. Death seemed so pointless. What had she thought, that she would smile in her last moments, knowing she had won? Victory could only be savoured by the living. Destroying herself... it was pointless. Painful, painful for so many.

Her movements smooth as the water, Phyrria stood. The door swung open at her touch, and she met the eyes of Ephara's other servants.  
"Their attack is merely a distraction." She said calmly. "Their true force approaches from the south."

The temple sprang into action, and Phyrria's choice had been made. She didn't regret giving up this chance for revenge. It was sloppy. Poorly thought through. Cruel.

There were more ways to ruin a man than death. Those that took her would pay in something other than blood.

A new fate was forming.


End file.
